


San Isidro

by madridog (FakeCirilla9)



Category: Men's Football RPF
Genre: Arguing, Bullfighting, Gen, Inappropriate Humor, Internal Conflict, Misunderstandings, corrida
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-01
Updated: 2019-06-01
Packaged: 2020-04-06 04:28:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19055236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FakeCirilla9/pseuds/madridog
Summary: Sergio and Isco meet at San Isidro.





	San Isidro

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to write Isco/Sergio fic because there is too few such stories. I didn't succeed.
> 
> I know nothing of corrida and I can't even search information calmly. I basically feel like Sara here on the topic.
> 
> Name of the matador is made up.
> 
> Enjoy?  
> Or hate me in the comments ;)

Isco walked in to the locker room to their captain convincing the Croatian midfielder to something in earnest.

„Come on, it’d be fun! You can’t play for the best Spanish club not knowing Spanish culture!”

“No,” Luka was non-pulsed, “it’s international break starting then and I’m going home. I have Ivan’s communion to attend to. Besides, just being near you I have plenty of everything Spanish.”

“Marce!” Sergio pounced on the next man in the row. “Back up your captain.”

“Nope, sorry, but I don’t see anything ‘fun’ or cultural about killing the animals.”

Muttering "foreigners" in contempt, Sergio looked around in search for some fellow Spaniards.  
  
Isco, having guessed at what his captain was up to, tried to make himself invisible.

“Isco!” Sergio’s voice proved he didn’t succeed. “What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Will you go with me on San Isidro?”

“Uh. When?”

“On San Isidro.” Sergio repeated slower.

“No, I don’t think so. No. I have something else planned.”

“For half a month? Surely we can find some date, it hasn’t to be the first day of festivities.”

“But I’m visiting Sara’s family! We are, that is. For the whole break, yeah. Nice day, guys.”

Isco pushed his clothes without folding them into his bag and left hurriedly.

“Wait, isn’t Sara living in Madrid?” he heard Sergio wondering aloud yet before the captain moved to convincing another player.

  
***

  
Sara was standing right next to him, holding up a banner and yelling.

The crowd was trying to get into the bullfighting arena, the weather was hot, the people were pushy and Isco wanted to be back at his swimming pool already. He also fervently wished his captain wouldn’t show up today. He glanced around once again, checking for the tell-tale silhouette painted in tattoos.

“Amor, what’s wrong?” Sara asked, noticing his jumpiness. “You’re so distracted. Are we waiting for someone else to come?”

“I hope not,” Isco mumbled. Then he glanced up the huge transparent his girlfriend hoisted. It pictured a bull dressed in matador costume, standing above a slayed man, with a blood-dripping sword held in its fore leg. “Isn’t it a bit… too flashy?”

“That’s the point.” Sara eyed him strangely with that look in her eyes any of their dog had when reading intentions of the approaching man – whether it foreshadowed being petted or being thrown into the swimming pool. That suspicion was in Sara’s eyes now. “You act weird.”

“People often tell me that,” Isco shrugged.

“Weirder than usual.”

“Everything’s all right. It’s just… I don’t like this place.”

“Me neither. All these poor bulls…”

Isco spotted Sergio above her shoulder and wrought the banner from her hand in an attempt to hide them from view.

“What are you doing?” Sara screeched. “It won’t be seen at this angle!”

They tugged the banner between them back and forth until people started to turn their way. The protest wasn’t large and soon they caught the attention of everyone around. Including Ramos.

“Isco!” Sergio beamed. “You came after all! And brought your lady. Good morning, ma’am.” Sergio lowered his voice confidently and, clearly missing Sara’s enraged expression, addressed Isco on the side. “How’d you managed to convince her? I can’t get Pilar to come and I try for years!”

“Ah… It’s a…” Isco stuttered.

Sergio slapped him jovially on the shoulder.

“I understand, hermano. Some secrets are not to be shared so freely. You tell me some other time, right?” He winked at Isco, then addressed them both again. “So. Gonna be exciting today, huh? You here for Calatrava fight, yeah? He’s one of my favorite. I prefer toreadors obviously, but Calatrava is awesome too. I like his style. Not just shove it, end it. But he gives it a time. Like he was dancing almost. A true artist.”

“Murderer!” Sara cried out and Isco just wished to be back home with his dogs.

“Uh, yeah, you could say so,” Sergio was a bit put off by her tone. “But he makes killing an art and that’s the true beauty of corrida.”

Isco rammed his head in the stick that supported their banner. Bad idea as it drew Sergio’s attention to it. Made him raise his eyes and see the poster. Isco didn’t need to look to know the exact moment his capi understood. The atmosphere changed drastically.

“Oh. So you’re one of these crazy green fighters that’d kill the legacy of Spain because of some misguided empathy,” Sergio spat at Sara.

Sara grabbed Isco’s arm.

“Actually, we both are,” she glared up at Ramos.

“Don’t henpeck him so!” complained Sergio, putting his own hand on Isco’s scruff.

“Look at yourself! That you’re his captain on the pitch doesn’t mean you can order him around in everyday life!”

“At least I don’t put mine opinions in his mouth!”

“Guys? I’m literally right here,” Isco tried to cut in. “Could you maybe not make me into a bone of contention?”

They both ignored him.

“My opinions?! These are his convictions too!”

“Convictions,” Sergio mocked. “Listen, lady, do you eat meat?”

“I’m a vegetarian.” Sara crossed her arms, offended.

Isco found himself holding an anti-corrida poster with Sergio’s arm thrown upon his shoulders.

“Well, Isco eats,” Sergio exclaimed triumphantly. “You think it's morally ok to kill animals for eating but not in the name of tradition and in honor to our patron?”

“Of course! Besides, they are stunned before. No one’s prolonging their suffering for fun!”

“Oh, so it’ll be all right if a matador hits the bull on the skull first?”

“No! It's still killing for entertainment. It’s wrong.”

“It’s Spanish tradition.”

“It’s harmful tradition that needs to be erased.”

“Do you even know how these bulls are treated before they enter arena? They live their whole lives in luxury. Unlike cows meant for slaughter, barely seeing a light of a day in big slaughterhouse from birth to death.”

"So according to you treating them humanly beforehand is supposed to be an excuse to brutally murdering them later on?"

"You can't use the word 'murder' to the killing of an animal! It'd be like calling killing a mosquito a crime."

"Ugh. You're impossible to talk to. Why are _you_ so silent? Say something!" Last words were directed at Isco.

"Leave him out of this." Sergio's protective instincts toward a younger teammate were triggered, if Isco was to judge by how tender his grip became, pulling him close, absently petting him on the shoulder.

"Excuse you," Sara looked ready to wrench a sword from a matador if any was close enough and plunge it in the man before her. "I did not bring him here using physical force. He's very much involved. Aren't you, Isco?"

"Um," Isco shifted a bit, torn between loyalty to his captain and his own beliefs. Finally he settled for a diplomatic: "Wouldn't it be better to replace it with a bull... statue? Something similar to how they do Hubertus nowadays in England Gareth mentioned..."

"That'd be like replacing football with foosball," sneered Sergio.

"Just how much of an unfeeling bastard are you? In football no one suffers - unless they had the misfortune of meeting you on the field-"

"Sara," Isco whined.

"What?" she challenged. "Whose side you are on?"

"Can I be in the middle?"

Sergio snorted.

"Only if opting for cutting the bull in half. One part for eating, one for matador trophy."

"You're disgusting," Sara snarled.

"And you're ignorant. I won't waste more time on this pointless argument. I don't intend to miss the fight."

"The killing you mean."

"Yes, ending in a killing. A bull hopefully. Or are you going to argue a man should die instead?"

"I hope you die in encierra one day!" shouted Sara at Ramos retreating back.

***

Marcelo threw a newspaper in the middle of the table with snacks, disturbing nearest teammates' lunch.

"Sergio!" he cried. "If you told me you're going there to protest, I'd go with you!"

Sergio frowned and Isco looked at the article the magazine was open on. 'RAMOS AGAINST BULLFIGHTING" said the title and there was a picture below of Sergio standing next to Isco holding the anti-corrida banner.

Isco slammed his face onto the table next to his plate.

 


End file.
